They Don't
by Flower Powerer
Summary: "Everyone's watching them as they say they're going to love each other forevermore, and pledge that 'they do', but they don't, Arnold. They don't." Helga's parents renew their vows. Helga/Arnold one-shot.


**AN: **I'm on a roll here, and I think I've discovered that Helga is my new favorite character. I'm a little more interested in just writing about her instead of making it a Helga/Arnold fic, but I do love throwing a little romance in there. ;) Enjoy!

**They Don't**

The reception hall was full of laughter and the clinking of wine glasses, so Helga figured she could sneak out the back door unseen by any of the two-hundred-plus guests in attendance at her parents' vow renewal ceremony. She snatched a bottle of wine off the nearest table and slipped out the door, letting it swing shut behind her.

In the back alley behind the building, Helga sighed heavily and sat down on the stoop. She examined the bottle of wine, only to realize it was still corked, and she was without a corkscrew.

"Figures," She snorted, laying it gently on the ground. She'd sneak back in for something to open it with later, but right now, she just needed to get out of that room for a little bit. Have some alone time.

Unfortunately, her alone time was short-lived. She heard the door behind her creak open and someone step outside. She didn't even bother to turn around.

"Listen, bucko, I'm not really in the mood for company, so you better scram or else I'l—"

"Helga?" The voice behind her questioned.

She froze mid-sentence, and slowly turned to look behind her. Standing behind her was Arnold."Arnold? What are you doing out here?"

_Of all the people at all of the times…_

"I could ask you the same question," Arnold said, lowering himself to the stoop next to her. "I saw you sneak out. And I saw you steal that bottle of wine too."

Helga glanced over at the bottle of wine. "Oh, that? That's nothing. I wasn't planning on…" She felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see Arnold holding open his hand beside her.

In it was a corkscrew.

"Arnold!" Helga gasped. She raised her eyebrow at him, "A goody-two-shoes like you?"

Arnold laughed, "I have my moments." He reached down and grabbed her hand from her lap and placed the corkscrew in it, closing her fingers over it. Helga glanced down at her hand in his and could feel a blush creeping over her face.

"But," Arnold said, slowly, "I thought maybe I could offer you something else as well. Something I think might be a little more helpful than alcohol."

"Oh, yeah?" Helga said, unable to take her eyes off their hands, "What's that?"

He bent down, lowering his face into her field of vision. "Someone to talk to?"

Helga pulled her eyes away from their hands and weakly smiled at him. "I dunno, Football Head. Drown my sorrows in red wine, or talk about them to you? Which sounds like less of a hassle here?"

Arnold pulled his hand away from Helga and leaned back on his arms. "What's the matter, Helga?"

She stared at him, taking him all in. Leaning back in that position, he looked more worship-worthy than ever. He was wearing the most jaw-dropping tux, and Helga was reminded of when they were bridesmaid and best man in a wedding together…her heart did the same flippy-floppy thing then that it was doing now, six years later. She was still in love with him after all these years, and here he was, willing to comfort her and listen to her problems…how could she deny him?

She sighed, turning back around to face the alley. "This whole ceremony is a bunch of bullshit."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"My parents have been fighting for as long as I can remember. Bob's a cheater; Miriam spends all his money; Bob's got a gambling problem; Miriam's an alcoholic…it just goes on and on. Everyone's watching them as they say they're going to love each other forevermore, and pledge that 'they do', but they don't, Arnold. They don't." She kicked at a little rock on the ground, embarrassed she was revealing all of this to Arnold.

"They seem pretty happy in there," Arnold said, pointing his thumb back at the door.

"Yeah, because Bob wants them to look happy for all his little business partners," Helga scoffed, "And whatever Bob wants, Bob gets."

"But they wrote their own vows, didn't they? They sounded really heartfelt and I thou-"

Helga interrupted, "Miriam gave up trying to fight Bob years ago. Now she just does whatever he says, just to keep him happy. She'd much rather sacrifice her individuality than face Angry Bob." She laughed bitterly, "It's pathetic."

"Well, maybe that's just how it seems on the outside," Arnold suggested, "Maybe it doesn't look like it to you, but maybe deep down they really do love each other. Stuff happens behind closed doors—"

"Please don't talk about what my parents do behind closed doors, Arnoldo."

"I'm just trying to say that just because it looks like two people don't really get along, doesn't mean they don't care about each other. Maybe they're just loving each other in a different way than most people. I mean, those vows sounded really sincere – they 'fessed up to their shortcomings, and admitted to wanting to try harder…they must love each other." Arnold said, earnestly.

"How can they love each other when they're _that_ mean to each other!" Helga raged.

"I'm not going to say that's ideally how love should be. But come on, Helga…are you really going to sit here and tell me you've never been mean to someone you love?"

Instant paralysis. Helga couldn't move. Flashbacks of that night on FTi flew through her mind. _Now_ he was going to call her out on it? Six years later? He waited six years to bring that up again?

"I…I don't know what you're talking about, Football Head," She stammered, fidgeting nervously with her dress.

"I think you do, Helga," Arnold said, softly, "and I'm just trying to make the point that if people saw us acting the way we do in public, they wouldn't think we were any more in love than you think your parents are."

Helga laughed, quietly but nervously, "We're not in love, Arnold…"

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "We're not?"

Helga blushed intensely, at the same time feeling goosebumps prickling up her arms. "What are you-?"

"I'm just saying," Arnold said, standing up suddenly, "if you meant what you said six years ago, and if you still mean it, then I think you should stop sitting out here being bitter about love…" He paused, and flashed her the most charming smile she'd ever seen, "come back inside, and dance with me."

He turned around and opened the door. Before stepping in, he called over his shoulder, "Why don't you come in and believe in love, Helga?"

The door shut behind him, leaving Helga alone on the stoop, eyes wide, wondering what had just happened. Gears turned in her mind as she tried to make sense of what just happened. But she didn't waste too much time. Before a minute had past, she jumped up from the stoop and scrambled to open the door, rushing in after Arnold.

She dropped the corkscrew on the ground, letting lay next to the unopened bottle of wine.

_Just promise me we won't end up like them, okay, Football Head?_


End file.
